


Binary Suns

by AceQueenKing



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Force Ghosts, Gen, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Rey Kenobi, Young Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan Kenobi has always watched Skywalkers take their first steps in this world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Binary Suns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coppercrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coppercrow/gifts).



There was a time in his life when Obi-Wan Kenobi would have said there was strength in observation. Jocasta had praised him for his ability to go through the information in the Jedi library without fidgeting as a youngling; Qui-Gon had selected him as a padawan in no small part for his ability to be patient, to observe.

“It is proper,” Qui-Gon said, “to select a padawan whose strengths are your weaknesses. That way you both learn.”

And though he had not chosen Anakin, the two of them were so different a band of brothers that he felt Qui-Gon's advice followed. He watched as Anakin shielded his eyes from the bright sun of Geonosis, and felt the pride in his disciple start a promising career.

Anakin's training had been exasperating, but he had become one of the best friends Obi-Wan had ever had -- at least, before he became one of Obi-Wan's greatest enemies.

Many of Anakin's decisions had filled him with confusion, but none more so than Anakin's sudden decision to turn back to the light. It was, by the knowledge of the order, utterly impossible. Even Master Yoda had not known how to do so.

Anakin's response – even when he had eternity to find one – had been simple yet unfathomable: “They were my children. I would have burned down the universe for them."

There had been a point when he had felt the same about Luke; though not out of any sort of paternal obligation. It was their duty to heed the living force, and he'd wanted to train Luke as nothing less than a sword of justice against Anakin and his newfound master. He had taken peace in the image of Luke staring toward the two suns as they had set out together; it had been a sign of vitality, proof that the Jedi were not dead. 

And it had worked – if not in the way he had imagined.

But with his own children, he had not shared Anakin's experience. His children were not known to him in life, and in death he had not meddled with them. It was not the Jedi way. Anakin, ever the opposite, interceded constantly.

Anakin had persuaded him to put eyes on his daughter only once, months after Luke had stumbled upon a quiet, auburn haired pacifist on Sundari named Rosemund. Obi-Wan had known at an instant that she could only be Sabine's daughter.

He had wanted to stay away – it was not his place – but Anakin had insisted he see her, if only for one moment. His first – and last – vision of his daughter was in a soft green gown, as she clasped Luke's hand in her own in a Mandalorian joining ceremony. The small, private smile on her face had told him all he needed to know– she looked to Luke as if he was her sun.

It was the Kenobi fate, it seemed, to orbit Skywalkers.

He maintained a distance after that. Obi-Wan contented himself with the spirit world, until he felt the living force swing, radically, toward the dark. He was past the point of feeling pain, but it hurt, a sudden cleaving of a presence he had only been distantly aware of.

He appeared in the living world only to see his granddaughter, her arm pulled by what could only be a Sith. Rosemund lay dead on the floor, a hole through her side that could only be crafted by a light saber.

And then, for only the second time in his afterlife, Obi-Wan thought that perhaps Anakin was right. The girl's look was bewildered. She cried out in pain, and Obi-Wan knew he could not look away.

\- - -

She ran over scalding sands, hot and painful. She needed to get away, and fast; she'd broken away from the men who said they would take her home, if only she would submit to the brand. She saw the hot iron, and squirmed away; there was something bad about the men that she could not say, and she knew she could not stay in the Niima outpost any more.

They had felt bad to her, in a way she did not quite understand. She had been young when she had been left on Jakku, but she remembered her mother and father, remembered what their spirits felt like – lightness, air, splashes of water and life in a planet she barely remembered.

The men who claimed to be from the temple who had come to Niima – they did not feel the same. There was a darkness to them; something that felt rotten, without words. She did not remember her home well, but she remembered how it felt, full of life and welcoming.

Those men felt wrong; they felt like death.

And so she had fled. Unkar Plutt had yelled after her, but she had paid him no mind.

She ran hard, her lungs burning from the dry heat as she ran over the dunes. They were her best chance to get away; there were more areas to hide than in the flat lands surrounding the western approach to Nima.

There was a blue flash in the distance, and Rey stumbled. She yelled, startled as the sand shifted beneath her feet, and went head over feet down one of the largest dunes in the wastes.

“You're awfully far out to be alone, _padawan_ ,” a man had said. She flung herself backwards before looking at him, but he didn't look like the others. He wasn't one of the black cloaks.

“I don't talk to strangers,” she mumbled, pushing herself forward and getting up, even if her legs stung from the sliding sand.

She looked closer at the man – or, at least, a being that had a shape of a man, if a transparent one. He wore the same cloak as master and the others at home, but unlike master, he was blue, and shimmering; as if he was one of the master's friends, who she could remember only in flashes of memory: a frowning lady who talked to master in low voices; the man with a manic grin who constantly told the master to trust him.

“A wise choice,” the man said, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was cold, but she could feel the energy humming through it. The man was more than he seemed. She took a step back. He might not be in league with the black coats, but that didn't mean he wasn't a danger.

“Perhaps if we introduced each other, we would no longer be strangers.”

Rey wrinkled her nose. She didn't trust him, but then, she was on her own, in the desert.

“I am not a threat to you,” the old man said, holding his hands out; he must have been able to sense her distrust. “Search your feelings. You know that much to be true.”

She looked at him, trying to gather a sense of how the man felt. There was something about him that reminded her of mother – the patient eyes, the soft smile.

“Alright.” She nodded, then held out a hand. “I'm Rey.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” the blue man said, shaking her hand – or at least, making contact with it. Her hands felt tingly from the touch, and she quickly withdrew. “I'm...Ben.”

She frowned. The name sounded familiar, but she could no longer remember why.

“You ran into some trouble back there, I see,” Ben said.

“The black-robed men?”

“Yes.” Ben looked out toward the colony. “You were wise to run.”

“Sounds like I should get back to it, then,” she said, brushing her hair up past her face. She wondered for one fleeting second if Ben was a trick of the black cloaks; perhaps he had been meant only to delay her.

“Yes.” The blue main pointed to the north. “If you go in that direction, you should be able to lose them in the sandstorm.”

She walked ahead. Rey scanned the horizon in puzzlement.

“There's no sandstorm, Ben.”

“There will be,” he said with a small smile. “Can you not feel it?”

“You can't feel sandstorms,” she said. Every knew that much – you could scan for them on the horizon, you could watch for the signs, but being able to sense one? That would take some kind of power, some sort of awareness of the will of nature itself –

“You can,” Ben said,. “You could feel the danger those men presented to you. Open your mind, and you will be aware of a great many things – not only the present, but perhaps future events as well.”

“That sounds mad,” she said. “Like something in a fairy tale.”

“It is quite real, I promise you.” He glanced over at her. “Try it. Empty your mind.”

She stopped, throwing her hands up in the air. “Is this really the time?”

“I can think of no better time to be aware of your surroundings than when in danger.” Ben smiled again, and she frowned. She still wasn't sure whether she could trust him, but she hadn't felt any malice from him.

“This,” she said, stopping for a moment. “Is ridiculous.”

She took a deep breath, scanning on the horizon.

“Good,” Ben said. “Keep controlling your breathing, deep breath. Close your eyes, if you feel it helps you concentrate.”

That she would not do – she did not trust this Ben enough to close her eyes, but she kept her breaths deep. This was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous; she would learn nothing, and they were slowing down for nothing and –

“Listen to Jakku,” Ben said softly. “Do not allow your worries to cloud your mind.”

She listened, still feeling utterly ridiculous.

“What do you feel?”

“There's...” She frowned. There was something she could feel, energy, a sort of vibrant hum in the air. “There's some sort of...energy?”

“That energy,” Ben said, “May save your life. Listen closer – what does it tell you?”

She listened, but could hear nothing – the hum she felt was stronger in the west, and less so in the east. “It's stronger in the west but… “She frowned. “That's all I can get.”

“That hum is your enemies.” Ben gestured toward the west. “The men who seek you are a powerful group – but they will be unable to hide from you so long as you listen to the will of the Force.”

“What is the Force?”

“An energy that binds all things.” Ben paused. “Every living creature has the force flowing through them. That energy will allow you to sense things about your world – and your enemies.”

“If everything is detectable in the force, then why haven't they gone the right way?” She tilted her head. “Surely they could detect me?”

“Ah, well,” Ben smiled. “There are things one can do to change perceptions among the more simple minded – but that is a lesson for another time.”

She stared toward the sunset. “There's something up ahead – there's a lot of energy there, but...faint?”

“A graveyard of ships.” Ben said. “There is a great deal of disturbance in that place. If you go there, you should be able to mask your presence from the men who wish to do you harm.”

She put her hand up to shield her eyes. “Just keep going north?”

“To the north.” The blue man agreed. “As fast as you can, Rey.”

“Thank you,” she said, and took off running. Jakku had taught her there were no second chances.

\- - -

Obi-Wan Kenobi watched his granddaughter as she disappeared into the sands, seeing another Skywalker run toward their destiny. His hands were tied when it came to interfering -- but in this small way, he could hope he made a difference for her. Rey did not blink in the sight of the sun, and Obi-Wan could only hope that this time, as he watched a Skywalker run towards their fate, it would be to a happier one.


End file.
